


The Prices of Being Howard Stark’s Son

by confused_sonya, sophietris



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Howard Stark, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxiety, Child Abuse, Depression, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapped Tony Stark, Kind of mean avengers at first?, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Torture, abused tony stark, but they don’t really know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2020-11-10 15:18:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confused_sonya/pseuds/confused_sonya, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophietris/pseuds/sophietris
Summary: Tony Stark and the Avengers are in high school. Tony Stark definitely doesn’t have the best life, contrary to popular belief. And definitely isn’t friends with the ‘Avengers.’ Funny, how life works out.Yes, this is one of those overused clichés that no one asked for but I delivered anyway.





	1. tony stark’s childhood is not ideal

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction ever on AO3, so please don’t judge :) thank you!  
Please leave feedback, constructive criticism is highly appreciated!! If there are any mistakes, please tell me!

Anthony Edward Stark had been kidnapped twenty-seven times before he turned ten. 

Of course, that was just one of the many prices of being Howard Stark’s son. But during the twelfth kidnapping he finally realized the true meaning of that statement. He was turning five, finally understanding the cruelty of the world around him. And he now understood that Howard didn’t care. 

The kidnappers were just the usual, nothing Anthony wasn’t used to. They had called Howard and demanded $10,000 ransom for the return of Anthony. Howard easily spent that much in a day, Anthony knew he’d pay. This time, however, Howard had refused. The words he screamed were still burned into Anthony’s mind. 

“You think Anthony is worth a penny? You’re wrong. I don’t give a shit if the bastard comes back or not.”

The words had been slurred, but filled with venom. Howard Stark took another swig from his bottle, and hung up. The kidnappers turned to Anthony, and they were angry.

There had been a leak in the ceiling of the dark room he had been thrown in. The kidnappers had a nondescript bucket for the leak, and let it fill up with freezing water. Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound echoed around the room as Anthony shivered from the cold, huddled in the corner. The bucket was full after what he guessed was two weeks. His birthday had passed, he guessed. He was five now. 

Then they had come back, and that was the first time Anthony Stark was waterboarded- (but it wouldn’t be the last).


	2. tony and PTSD do not mix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings-  
\- descriptions of torture (waterboarding)  
\- PTSD/ Panic attack  
\- Implied/Referenced self harm  
\- Implied/Referenced child abuse
> 
> Stay safe, and don’t read if you’re sensitive to any of these!

Tony Stark hated rain.

Rain was a harsh reminder of his pain. Rain sounded just like those weeks where he’d been trapped, the familiar drip leaving terror coursing through him. Rain could wipe off the makeup he applied to cover his bruises. Rain was beautiful as it was painful.

His familiar smirk in place, jacket zipped to his neck, concealer subtly on, Tony walked to school. His breath steamed in the freezing air. He walked to school, snow crunching under his boots. Every step sent a stabbing pain through him, but he hid his limp well. Tony was good at hiding things. He sauntered through the doors, wanting more than anything to curl up and cry. Stark men are made of iron. Howard’s voice pierced his head, and Tony dismissed the notion of crying immediately. He smiled winningly at anyone who could have been watching his internal dialogue. 

Tony sat in the back of physics class with Bruce Banner, the only other guy in the class that shared his genius. Bruce, however, did not share Tony’s absolute boredom in- well, almost everything. 

“Bruce. Hey. Brucie-Bear!” Tony hissed, trying to get his friend’s attention. Well- sort of friend. Tony didn't know, he didn’t have a lot of experience with friends who didn’t just talk to him because of his money. Tony balled up a piece of paper and tossed it at Bruce. Bruce finally looked over, and Tony gave him a wounded look. He let out a groan of frustration as the teacher continued to drone on. Bruce’s lips quirked up in a half-smile, and he went back to copying notes. Tony sighed and looked around for a distraction, anything, when his eyes landed on a group of students. He recognized them immediately as Bruce’s friends. “The Avengers,” they called themselves. Tony thought that was a bit much, considering in high school there wasn’t much to avenge other than someone getting detention. But he supposed his entire existence was ‘a bit much,’ so he let it slide.

The Avengers, he noticed, were in various stages of boredom. Clint Barton looked a second away from pitching himself out the window, similarly to Tony. Sam Wilson was doodling in his notebook- Tony squinted- he was drawing some kind of bird? James Buchanan Barnes (“Bucky” to his friends, which Tony was not) was asleep. Thor was grinning out the window at a bird. Natasha Romanoff looked completely void of emotion, reading a book. Steve Rogers- Tony rolled his eyes- was being the perfect golden boy as always. He was diligently copying down notes and paying attention. 

Tony sighed, glaring at the clock. The clock was moving at an insanely slow speed. He was sure someone was changing the clocks backwards just to mess with him. Tony froze, a shiver of terror running up his spine. He looked around, trying to figure out what was wrong. Then he heard it. Tap, tap, tap. He turned to the window as slowly as possible, hoping against hope that it he was just hearing things. 

Rain. It dripped on the roof, streaking down the windows. Tony’s breathing quickened. It’s nothing. He scolded himself. You got over this. You’re not a pathetic, scared five year old who can’t take a shower because he starts to scream. At least not anymore. Stupid, pathetic, worthless- Tony wrenched his gaze from the window and desperately searched the room for a distraction. His gaze landed on his phone. 

Tony fished his phone out of his pocket in quick, frantic motions, texting Rhodey and Pepper. James Rhodes and Pepper Potts were seniors, his friends at first sight since he met them at age ten. He sent a quick text, one word.

Rain.

Tony stood up, hands shaking. He grinned his perfected press smile, and said something about the bathroom. He rushed out of the room, collapsing to the cold tiles in the nearest men’s room. 

Pepper and Rhodey- bless them, he loved them- were in the men’s bathroom moments later.Tony’s frame shook, sobbing silently. 

Pepper got a few weird looks, he noticed through tearstained eyelashes, but as soon as she glared at the students they backed off immediately, most leaving as quickly as possible, not even stopping to wash their hands. “Disgusting,” Pepper muttered, before returning her attention to Tony’s shaking form. Rhodey had knelt down next to him, whispering comforting words and asking Tony to breathe deeply. 

The walls were closing up on him. Breathe? There was no room to breathe. He watched the drip of the water, the splash it made as it fell into the bucket. Tony couldn’t breathe. He needed to get out. 

“What do you need to get out of?” Pepper asked, her voice quiet and soothing. 

Out. Out, out of here, out of this room, the bucket, out of school, out of his skin. He needed to get out. Tony scratched at his skin, tears mixing with blood, tearing at his skin with frenzied motions. Out, out, out. He had to find a way out of his fucking head-

“-ony. Tony. Tony!” Rhodey’s voice cut through the rush of panic, and Tony looked up. 

Rhodey took Tony’s hand and pressed it against his own heart. Rhodey inhaled and exhaled exaggeratedly, encouraging Tony to match his breaths to his. Pepper’s hand was on his back, soothing. Eventually Tony calmed down, his breath evening and tears drying. The class was long over, but that didn’t matter. 

Tony Stark hated rain, and rain hated him.


	3. tony stark vs. the avengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint is an asshole. Tony deals with assholes all the time, but Clint goes a little too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait! I promise to get the next chapters out sooner.
> 
> (Sonya’s author’s note: I support Clint Barton but we needed a bit of a villain so,,,, this is what we did  
thanks for putting up with us, lol)

Later, Steve realized they might have been jerks, especially Clint, and started the whole thing. But it didn’t matter now, because Clint was sporting a wonderful bruise and he had an angry Bucky by his side and recovering from a particularly vicious asthma attack. 

Just hours before, Steve had been walking through the hallway during lunch, the Avengers next to him. They were talking and laughing together, groaning at Clint’s puns and incredulously staring at Thor, who had apparently no knowledge of what a pun was. Out of nowhere, Clint’s smile slid off his face and he scoffed, almost disgustedly. Steve immediately was on guard, scanning the hall for anything- oh. Tony Stark was walking opposite them with his two friends, one with red hair and a smattering of freckles and the other with dark skin and a buzzcut. Steve noticed a bruise on Tony’s face at the same time Clint spoke up.

“Got yourself in another fight, huh, Stark? You so desperate for attention that you picked a fight? Guess your daddy didn’t raise you so well.”

Steve vaguely noticed that Tony’s jaw clenched, expression tight, but Steve shrugged it off as nothing. The two behind Tony were looking angry, the red-head especially glaring at them with a stare that could rival Natasha’s. 

“Wow. You really brought- what, your bodyguard and your girlfriend here?” Clint sneered. “How much you wanna bet he paid her to be his friend? Or, he’s giving her special treatment in his bedroom so she’ll stay around him?”

Tony’s fists tightened, his expression hardening. “How about you shut the fuck up, Barton? Are you really so pathetic you call yourself an ‘Avenger,’” Tony bit, “And you go ahead making fun of people who did nothing to you?”

Steve’s gut clenched, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the jab at Tony’s friends. They hadn’t done anything to them. 

Clint smirked. “Your mama never taught you not to swear around ladies, Stark? Oh, she must’ve been too busy cleaning up after your pathetic ass. Anyway, sorry for him.” 

Clint directed the last sentence to the redheaded girl next to Tony, winking at her. At this, Tony’s expression turned murderous. The girl looked barely fazed, although one arm wrapped against Tony as if to hold him back. 

“You don’t know jack shit about my mom,” Tony responded with obvious fury. “You have no right to talk about her. She’s a great goddamn mother.”

Clint sneered, and his expression made Steve a little wary. Clint was going to go too far. Before Steve could open his mouth to interject, Clint steamrolled right on. 

“Yeah, and she did such a great job that you got kidnapped for a year and a half when you were seven. Where was she then, huh?” Steve got the impression that Clint was projecting his issues with his not-so-great family on Tony. Steve was going to say something, he swears he was, but he didn’t. He kept his mouth shut, not doing anything to stop Clint. Which in hindsight made him just as bad as the guy that was throwing insults.

Steve was wrenched violently out of his thoughts when Tony broke free of the redhead’s hold and lunged at Clint. His fist connected with Clint’s nose with a sickening crack, and suddenly a droplet formed a river and blood was streaming from his face. Clint staggered back, clutching his bloody nose, and swore. He lunged at Tony blindly, connecting a solid punch to his stomach. He barely flinched. 

Then something in Tony’s gaze shifted. He stood ramrod-straight as if at attention, his jaw clenched and body tense.

Steve didn’t notice. He was too busy holding Clint back from practically killing Tony. Steve breaths were heavy; they wheezed on the way out. He started to shake.

Bucky, who had been standing frozen next to the equally frozen Natasha and Sam, peeled himself from the spot and was next to Steve in seconds. 

“Stevie! Steve, okay, take a deep breath. You’re okay, relax your muscles. You’re okay, it’s gonna be fine. Try to breathe.” Bucky supported Steve, loosening his shirt collar, talking soothingly. Steve gasped for breath, panicking. “Hey hey, Steve, don’t panic. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Steve slowly was able to regain his breath, now sitting on the floor with his eyes closed. The impromptu mild asthma attack had really drained him. Steve opened one eye and saw Bucky staring concernedly at him. 

“I’m okay, Buck. Really.” Bucky shot Steve a look but accepted the answer, his face turning stony as he turned to Tony.

(Author’s note: I rhymed. APPRECIATE ME.)

Bucky cracked his knuckles, Natasha and Sam behind him glaring. 

“I will fucking end you.” Bucky hissed out to Tony, not loud enough for Steve to hear. Tony simply smirked, turned on his heel, and walked away with his friends in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a pretty hard chapter to write. I’m sorry it was so short. I’ve been putting together a portfolio for an application for an art school. 
> 
> If anyone’s interested in looking at a sample of my art, it’s here:  
https://imgur.com/a/XbG0Ofj
> 
> Have a wonderful day, and please leave comments! I could use inspiration or your critique! (please don’t yell at me too much i’m fragile)


	4. natasha is not happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky, Sam, and Clint think Tony needs to be punished. Tony evidently agrees. Natasha does not agree with anything they did.

Hours later, Bucky had Steve go home. Steve hadn’t been feeling well, shaken up from the asthma attack and upset. Bucky was furious, and justifiably so. Clint hadn’t done anything to Stark to deserve that. Sure, they’d been throwing insults, but that was normal. It was just banter. Stark had gone too far.

And Steve- Steve definitely hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t deserved that. Stark had made him so stressed that he had an asthma attack. Bucky growled. Stark would have to fucking pay. He’d had everything handed to him on a silver platter. He’d hurt Bucky’s best friend as if it were nothing. Bucky’d have to teach him a lesson.

After school, Bucky waited for Stark’s friends to leave. He knew that Stark lingered after school, as if he was delaying going home. Bucky hadn’t told Sam or Clint his plan, but somehow they were both next to him, seemingly understanding what he was going to do and going with it.

As soon as Stark was alone, usual smirk on his face, Bucky’s vision tunneled. He marched at Stark, snarling. Clint and Sam were right behind him.

“You absolute… bitch.” The words were growled with such venom that Bucky hardly recognized his voice as his own. Stark merely smirked, as if it were a compliment. 

Bucky’s vision reddened and he swung a fist at Stark, connecting with his face. Stark didn’t make a move to stop him, just stood there, unflinching. Bucky’s brain faintly registered that that only made him more angry. He needed to hurt for hurting Steve like that. 

Bucky couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. He swept Stark’s feet out from under him, watching with a sick sort of satisfaction as his head hit the ground with a dull thud. Bucky kicked at his ribs, his stomach, his head. Sam and Clint had joined in at some point, equally angry and protective. Stark did nothing to stop them, instead closing his eyes and curling in on himself slightly.

When they were finished, blood trickled from Stark’s face in a crimson river. Bucky’s hands were smeared with drying blood. Stark lay there on the pavement, unmoving, eyes open, staring at the sky. His hands lay at his sides stiffly. 

Clint turned on his heel and walked away, Sam and Bucky trailing after. Bucky felt no remorse at leaving Stark like dirty laundry on the floor, leaving him to rot on the pavement.

—Natasha’s POV—

Natasha could sense that something was wrong the second Bucky, Clint, and Sam stepped into Bucky’s house. She’s been there with Steve and Thor, waiting for the rest of the Avengers for their weekly movie night. Bruce was at the library, claiming he needed to get a project done. He’d promised to make it up to them, so Natasha wasn’t worried.

Her suspicions were confirmed as soon as she noticed the dried blood covering each of their hands and part of Bucky’s shirt. Natasha steeled herself for the worst, tilting her face towards them. She raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question. What happened? Who do I have to kill?

Thor voiced her question. “What happened to you, friends?” 

Bucky’s voice was flat, matching his expression. “Anthony Stark.”

Steve immediately stood. “What did he do now?” His voice was one of masked anger. If one was not looking too far, they’d think he was calm. Natasha thought she must’ve been wearing the same expression. 

“I’ll-” Steve swallowed. “Did he hurt you?”

Sam was the one to speak up. “No, Steve, it’s fine. We hurt him, actually.” Similar to Bucky’s voice, Sam’s was toneless. Natasha’s guard flew up. They’d hurt Tony? What had happened?

“Tell us what happened.” Natasha’s voice was firm, laced with concealed anger. There was silence for a minute.

Clint cracked first. “He deserved it. He hurt Steve, and me, and he was talking shit about us- the Avengers! We only gave him what he deserved- and he deserved to be taken down a few notches. Strutting around with his little slut friends like he owns the school-”

“Clint, Sam, Bucky, what did you do?” Natasha interrupted, voice raised.

“We found him after school,” Bucky shifted his weight, glancing away from Natasha, “and we fought with him.”

“Did he fight back?” Natasha’s voice was strained. This was exactly what the Avengers did not stand for. When she’d joined, she had made sure there would be no unjustified violence or punishing undeserving people. After all, that had been basically in her old… job’s… description. And they had sworn they would never do such a thing.

“Well, no, but-”

Natasha wasn’t even sure who had said it, but she ended the sentence immediately with a cutting motion with her hand. “So you jumped him, attacked him, and kept beating him up even when he made no move to stop you? When he did nothing to justify that?!” 

With that, she stalked out of the house. Unsure where she was going but knowing it was anywhere but there, Nat let her feet guide her down the sidewalk.

Natasha took a calming breath. It had been a while she’d nearly let her emotions get the best of her like now. She needed to reign in her feelings, stay impassive. Her mind swirled, protesting. Tony was- Tony was an enigma. Sometimes she’d feel as if she was glimpsing behind a façade of arrogance and into a child’s broken eyes, and other times the cutting comments and snarky personality was all that she could see. She had her suspicions, but the way he’d reacted to their comments and getting hurt only fueled her idea. 

She’d have to tell Bruce. He deserved to know what they’d done to his friend.


	5. Bruce + a Talk™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry
> 
> I have nothing to say for myself.. I was going through a hard time and I could find no motivation to write.  
……
> 
> @Neofito23 Apologies, I am so late in answering... Happy late New Year and happy Valentine’s Day!
> 
> @Imatallelf good idea, I’m probably going to go that! thank you for your wonderful comment 
> 
> @shippingfandomtrashhhhh aww thank you so much!!
> 
> @WritingPains thank you for leaving a comment, I remembered that I had to post this chapter

Natasha found Bruce the next day at the cafeteria, informing him that they needed to talk. He had nodded, concerned, and together they walked to the empty library. 

Natasha blew out a breath. “Listen, you know Tony Stark.” Bruce’s face immediately morphed into concern and suspicion, and he nodded. “Nat, what’s going on?”

“I need you to check in with him. He won’t like it- probably will push you away. The Avengers,” she muttered the word, scowling, “tracked him after school and beat him up. I am not sure how badly, but I trust you to check in with him.” 

Natasha held her breath, searching for a reaction. Bruce’s face was closed off, blank. For a minute that seemed to stretch into an eternity, everything was silent.

Then it exploded.

“They what?!” 

—

“Breathe with me, котёночек, breathe.” Natasha calmly put a hand on Bruce Banner’s chest, other hand flying to the concealed weapon at her hip. She never knew what might happen. 

“I just can’t believe- they- did they know about Tony’s- God, I-”

Natasha took a breath. Seeing Bruce react just drew out repressed anger and betrayal, and she didn’t want to yell or cry or show any emotion, if she was honest with herself. 

“Bruce, look at me.” Bruce’s muttering ceased and he glanced at her, fury and confusion and horror brewing behind his eyes. He was taking rapid breaths, fists clenching. “Breathe.”

At that word, words started tumbling out of Bruce’s mouth, angry and rushed as if someone would steal his breath.

“They must’ve known. It was so obvious. Tony’s not what he makes himself out to be, the arrogant asshole with the perfect life. Obviously he has issues. Maybe his parents, or other kids, but no one could get the bruises he does without daily fights. Tony isn’t hostile. He doesn’t start fights. He’s not- he’s not the reason for their problems. They’re projecting on him. How could they not have known?!”

Natasha nodded. Her own thoughts mirrored Bruce’s words. She had practice reading people, could see through them like glass- but Tony was different, difficult. It was almost as if he, too, had spent a lifetime smothering his emotions and putting on a mask. Natasha had surprising trouble telling what Tony’s feelings were at a given time. He wasn’t like Steve, who wore his emotions on his sleeve.

(I rhymed. Again. Be proud!!!)

Natasha was ripped out of her thoughts when Bruce stood up abruptly. 

“I’m going to go talk to them.” Bruce’s voice was cold, determined. Natasha wouldn’t have talked him out of it even if she could- because honestly a little part of her head spat that a stern talking-to was the least they deserved for what they had done. That was the part of her head that controlled her emotions, a voice she tried to get rid of to no avail; pain still demanded to be felt. She watched, not a muscle moving, as Bruce stalked out. 

Natasha schooled her face into a plain expression, never betraying the emotions she felt. She, too, stood, and walked to her next class.

—Clint POV—

Clint heard the bell and looked around, concerned that Bruce and Natasha hadn’t come back yet. Usually if someone left the table during lunch, they would come back before the bell rang and everyone would walk to classes together. This was an unspoken rule in their friend group, one that they never really broke. He threw his lunch tray at the trash can a few meters away, silently cheering as it made it in. Wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Bruce storming up to their lunch table. He heard Bruce’s voice, though, cold and strangled. 

“Come with me.” Clint raised an eyebrow, but turned and followed suit anyway. He’d never seen Bruce’s features contorted in such anger, his expression painted red. His hands, Clint noticed, were shaking. The Avengers, confused, filed after Bruce into an empty classroom. Bruce shut the door with an audible click, and turned on them. 

“What the hell?!” Bruce all but yelled, stepping closer to them. “What did you do to Tony?!” 

Clint found his voice, however meek. “You mean,” he swallowed, “Stark? Nat told you, didn’t she?” The last sentence was phrased more as a statement, and Bruce nodded. 

Bruce took a deep breath, seemingly calming himself down. “Why would you do that? Tony isn’t your enemy here. From what I gathered, you provoked him. Listen to me. I know Tony, and he isn’t violent. He wouldn’t just start a fight for the hell of it.”

Clint’s voice seemed small even to his own ears, but he pressed on. “He gave Steve an asthma attack.”

“Steve gets asthma attacks all the time! Besides, even if he did, Tony wasn’t the cause of it. The attack was caused by stress. Namely, you provoking Tony.”

Clint’s stomach dropped. Shit. Bruce was right, wasn’t he? He had jeered about Tony’s family and friends, but that was just to get a rise out of him; to knock his ego down a few pegs; to show him he wasn’t center of the universe. 

Clint had nothing else to say. He looked up at Bruce, whose eyes were filled with anger and frustration and a sort of deep sadness. Clint swallowed. God, he had been a bad person- a bully. Ice seemed to run through his veins as a memory surfaced in his mind. 

They had been in their freshman year of high school, all of them young and bright and looking for a group of friends. They’d fit together like a puzzle from the moment they had met and in the memory, the Avengers were at Steve’s house. They had been talking and somehow the topic of bullies had come up. That was the day they’d come up with their own little pact, to help people. The Avengers all had rough backgrounds, some worse than others, but they were still kicking. They decided right then to protect each other at whatever cost, to protect whomever needed saving. 

The look of determination in each of their eyes lingered at the back of Clint’s head as he looked back at Bruce. Clint wasn’t stupid, he knew he’d messed up. He understood that what they’d done was terrible- even if it hadn’t seemed so bad at the moment. If Bruce was this upset, Clint had screwed up big-time.

Bruce left to find the rest of the Avengers to talk to them as well. As he retreated, fists still clenched, Clint stayed in the void classroom. He didn’t go to any of his classes. He sat there, in the dark, alone with his thoughts. 

When the final bell rang, Clint stood. He left the classroom, picked up his backpack, and walked home. He didn’t bother to find anyone. He needed some serious self-evaluation. 

He was absolutely guilt-ridden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this chapter wasn’t great! again, I apologize for the erratic posting schedule, i can’t make any promises but I will try harder to get out longer chapters faster!!
> 
> have a wonderful day!!! :)


	6. tony is confused™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce talks to Tony / Natasha talks to Bruce, Steve, Clint, & Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes it’s been over a month and a half since i last updated and I’m sorry :(
> 
> but since we are quarantined i will try to write more! a longer chapter a week!
> 
> <3

—Tony’s POV—

Nothing was making sense. As he walked into class on Wednesday morning, he immediately knew something was off-kilter. The Avengers were all staring at him when he sat down, but as soon as he looked at them they quickly turned away. It seemed as if there was something close to regret, or guilt in some of their eyes… but Tony was tired. He was imagining things, he supposed. 

At the cafeteria, Tony sat alone. Pepper and Rhodey had different lunch times, so he had no one to sit with. It wasn’t like it bothered him much anyway- or so he looked. 

Honestly, he’d kill to have some company. There was no way he’d do anything about it, though. He picked tonelessly at his slice of pizza and prayed lunch would be as soon as possible. The Avengers has been giving him weird looks all lunch, which wouldn’t have bothered him- he’d stood much worse than staring at a daily basis- but it was the icing on top of the cake in the recipe for a bad day.

His mind flew back to the morning’s events, and he clutched his aching ribs absentmindedly. Howard had woken up hungover and decided to take the pain out on Tony. Of course, it didn’t make a difference whether Howard was drunk or completely, bone-sober- he treated Tony the same. Worthless, an embarrassment.

Tony’s ribs screamed in protest as he tried to get up to throw away his trash. He winced and exhaled sharply, but refused to ask for help. He was fine. He could be fine on his own, he’d been keeping himself alive for fourteen years, hadn’t he? 

He dropped his now-cold pizza. His appetite had suddenly disappeared. Tony noticed a movement in the corner of his eye. Bruce was walking towards him, his jaw set and eyes full of something like determination. 

Tony furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

“I heard about Clint and Bucky.” 

Tony stiffened. “It’s fine. Nothing happened.” Tony muttered, sure that Bruce was about to barrage him with accusations about what he had done wrong, he had obviously done something horrible to deserve the beating Clint and James had given him-

“No,” Bruce cut him off, “Buck and Clint had no right to do what he did to you.” 

Tony blinked. “What? No- I-”

Bruce continued, tripping over his words in a rush to say them, oblivious to Tony’s confusion. “It wasn’t right, Clint and Bucky should’ve never hurt you, they were taking out their own anger about- they were taking their anger out on you and that obviously isn’t an excuse, but I’m sorry they-”

What? This was a trap. It had to be. Tony braced himself. “No, I deserved it.”

“Tony, no,” Bruce said, face falling. “Listen to me.” Tony didn’t.

“No- I deserved it,” Tony insisted, his voice becoming stronger and more sure as he went on, “I hit Clint, Steve had an asthma attack because of me, he could’ve died, it was my fault. I deserved it.”

As soon as Bruce opened his mouth to talk, the lunch bell rang, effectively cutting him off. Tony gathered his things. “Bye,” he muttered, glancing at Bruce and running off to his next class, eyes firmly staying on the ground.

——Natasha’s POV:——

Nat had been thinking about Tony for a while. She’d been studying him since the beginning of the year. He always acted snarky and arrogant, flaunting his wealth whenever he could.

Something she’d noticed, though, was that he was a bona fide genius. Even though Tony always looked like he could care less about class, and he never participated in class, she’d seen his grades. Whenever he had projects with Bruce, his designs were so advanced she could barely understand them.

But there was one thing Natasha didn’t understand- he had never once flaunted or shown off his genius. It was almost as if someone made him think he wasn’t nearly as smart as he really was. 

Tony also had sides to him she didn’t expect. When he was with Bruce, he was shy and seemingly nervous (although that might’ve been a trick of her mind. Surely Tony, the most confident and self-assured guy she knew, couldn’t have been this anxious bundle nerves she’d glimpsed occasionally). But as soon as they started talking science or math or philosophy? Tony lit up like a Christmas tree, taking a mile a minute enthusiastically. He was a walking paradox, and she swore to herself she would figure him out.

Anyway, she’d found him intriguing. She wanted to be his friend, and not just to understand him. He needed a bigger support system, she’d decided. And she wanted to be there for him. 

So, she talked to Bruce, Clint, Bucky, and Steve. At first Bucky and Clint had been against the idea of her befriending Tony, but she had reminded them that it was none of his damn business who she was friends with.

Natasha had straightforwardly told both Clint and Bucky that if they restricted who she was friends with, that was a toxic relationship and unhealthy. They had respected both her wishes and apologized, of course. 

Clint wasn’t a bad person, Natasha knew that, just fiercely protective of his friends, as well as prone to jumping to conclusions and making rash bad decisions, given he had no impulse control. Bucky was the same.

“I’m inviting Tony to the lake party.” The lake party was a biannual gathering they had at Bruce’s house, since he had a beautiful lake in his backyard. Natasha rolled her eyes at Clint, Bucky, and Steve’s stunned faces. Bruce smiled at her.

“Wha- Why?!” Clint asked incredulously. 

“Why not?” Natasha looked at him sharply. “I don’t know what kind of grudge you have against him, but he’s not a bad person.”

Clint and Bucky immediately protested, equally protective and defensive, but she cut them off.

“Do you trust me?”

Clint sighed. “With my life.” Bucky nodded.

“Then believe me. Tony Stark is not a bad person. He didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he was just defending his honor. Clint, you know the feeling. Just-” Natasha exhaled slowly. “Just give him a chance.”

She looked at the three of them. Bruce gave her a small smile. Bucky and Steve nodded and Clint wore a neutral expression, which she knew translated into a stubborn agreement.

Natasha nodded. “It’s settled, then.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im gonna start sobbing i wrote isaac instead of bruce, someone please kill me  
i already edited it out but i can never take that back i am Ashamed

**Author's Note:**

> Again, constructive criticism is highly appreciated!! If there are any mistakes please tell me :)
> 
> slow updates, sorry!


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